


On His Milk-White Neck, the Devil's Mark

by NotALemon



Series: You're Just My Type (O Negative) [1]
Category: Gravity Falls, ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I Love Me Some Good Bants, M/M, The Devil's Mark, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, You Can Rip Parapines Out of My Cold Dead Hands, playful banter, this is literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-27 00:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21109712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotALemon/pseuds/NotALemon
Summary: "You're doing it again," Norman says, smile lacing his voice. He runs a hand through Dipper's tangled, curly hair affectionately, accidentally getting more forehead than hair. He doesn't mind, and he knows Dipper doesn't, either."Doing what?"Norman raises his eyebrows, knowing Dipper's playing innocent. "You're touching the Devil's mark.""You're so dramatic."





	On His Milk-White Neck, the Devil's Mark

Dipper’s laying his head next to Norman's on the pillow, idly tracing his finger along a couple moles on the side of Norman’s neck, close to his pulse point. It's a small mark, hard to notice without knowing of its existence beforehand, nothing like Dipper's birthmark, but still unique to Norman. That's part of the reason Dipper loves it: it's a small reminder that Norman is special, not just to him.

"You're doing it again," Norman says, smile lacing his voice. He runs a hand through Dipper's tangled, curly hair affectionately, accidentally getting more forehead than hair. He doesn't mind, and he knows Dipper doesn't, either.

"Doing what?"

Norman raises his eyebrows, knowing Dipper's playing innocent. "You're touching the Devil's mark."

"You're so dramatic," Dipper says. He kisses the moles, burying his face in Norman's neck and inhaling him. Dipper's used to Norman's smell, the way it permeates the apartment and the blankets, but still loves it, the mystery-tinged smell of his boyfriend, as if the ability to see ghosts affects the way he smells. It's a romantic idea that Dipper doesn't like to share. 

"There's another pillow," Norman says, closing his eyes. He doesn't hate the feeling of Dipper's warm breath against his neck or the way it tickles, but that's not the point. It's the principle of the matter, pointing out that Dipper's invading his personal space. 

"Not as comfortable as your pillow."

"_My_ pillow?" Norman presses closer so that they're nose-to-nose.

Dipper whines about the shift in position. "You tell me every day it's _your_ pillow."

"Because you act like it's yours." Norman reaches out for Dipper's hand, playing with his calloused fingers, much shorter than his own. “Especially when I’m sleeping. You snore me awake all the time.” 

"That's kinda the point of sharing a bed, Norm. _Sharing_." Dipper squints at him. “And I don’t snore. That’s slander.”

Norman smiles just a little, folding and unfolding Dipper's fingers. "You're hogging, not sharing. And you _do_ snore. And drool."

"And you hog the blankets." Dipper sticks his tongue out, mature as ever.

"You don't complain." Norman laces their fingers together. 

"Yes, I do! All the time! Asshole." Dipper pulls his fingers away from Norman's to shove his chest chest, nose creased up. 

"I thought you liked it." Norman's grinning, proving he _is_ an asshole. "Because you get to spoon me."

Dipper jabs at Norman's nose, the playful ferocity making Norman smile even more. "I'm an opportunist."

Norman raises his eyebrows. "Uh-huh," he says, eyes crinkling from his smile. He holds out his arms the best he can while lying on his side. "Come here."

"Are you sure I wouldn't be hogging all the space? Or snoring and drooling on you?" Dipper's petulant as ever, endearingly so.

"C'mon." Norman makes grabby hands, and who is Dipper to ignore the grabby hands? They've always been a weakness for him since childhood, when Mabel would reach out for him during an argument and go _bro-bro, c'mon!_. That's his excuse for succumbing to them. Norman's the asshole for using it against him. 

"Asshole," Dipper mumbles, moving into Norman's arms. He has to make his thoughts apparent. "I'm not going to be the little spoon."

"Of course," Norman says, placating. He kisses Dipper's forehead, lips touching the very edge of his birthmark. Dipper's hand finds the back of his neck, fingers tracing the moles.

**Author's Note:**

> The devil's mark, as according to Wikipedia (the scholar in me is screaming at me citing Wikipedia), "include[s] moles, scars, birthmarks, skin tags, supernumerary nipples, natural blemishes and insensitive patches of skin". In this case, it is a string of moles. 
> 
> It's spooky season, so take this lovely little fluff piece about domestic bliss. Title taken from "Black No. 1" by Type O Negative, one of my current favorite songs. It fills my little gothic heart with so much joy. Ugh.


End file.
